


Edge of the Circle

by frogfarm



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, F/F, Knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22060654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: In the final days of Gallifrey, Leela reflects on the fine line between play and the real thing.Post-"Imperiatrix". Leela POV.
Relationships: Leela/Romana II
Kudos: 6
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2019





	Edge of the Circle

**Author's Note:**

> For the Annual Femslash Kink Meme, 2019. Prompt: Romana/Leela, knifeplay.

"It is unwise to stay here."

As ever, Leela's stern declaration appears to fall on deaf ears. The warrior of the Sevateem knows that the woman whose life she has sworn to protect is not a stupid woman. Then again, her years on Gallifrey have been one long lesson in all the myriad ways in which appearances can deceive.

"Do you really think the guard can no longer be trusted?" Romana turns from her place at the window. With her thin robes billowing about her body from the movement, her finely sculpted features soft and innocent in the dim evening light, she still seems utterly oblivious.

"I think we should have joined the others outside long ago." Leela quashes her frustration. It does no good to retread past argument. All that matters is the blade at her side, her hidden pouch of poison spikes. Not Janis thorns, but the native species of her new home had proven equally effective.

"Tell me again of when you first decided to leave the Doctor."

Leela blinks, then sighs. These conversational tangents are becoming more frequent. This one at least is understandable, and hardly unpleasant.

So she spins her tale as Romana goes about setting flame to candles, her charge having grown to enjoy this archaic form of lighting. She's gotten to the point in the story where an increasingly mad-seeming Doctor declares her banished, at which point Leela flees the Chancellory and eludes the Citadel's guards, only to come upon a lone woman in Space Traffic Control.

"She was very nice." Leela smiles in recollection, relaxing into her chair. Being on one's feet all day is beginning to wear on her soles. Romana had been quite taken with that joke when she made it.

"Was she?" Romana sounds somewhat absent. She's stretched out on the bed, her body a tiny island surrounded by a silken sea.

"Indeed." Leela can't help a smile. "I can only imagine how you would have responded to an alien invading your quarters."

Roman rolls over with a quizzical frown. "Is that supposed to imply something?"

"Naturally," Leela replies. Her smirk is decided but affectionate. "Or does a Time Lady's training include being trapped with a violent primitive?"

"The Lady Rodan had only a force field," Romana notes. "Imperial privilege is superior."

"Only to those who acknowledge it." Leela stands and stretches before resuming her slow circuit of duty around the room. If an attack is to come, whether from without or within, they will find her ready.

"Since you are not one of those." Romana's observation carries a hint of humor. "What would you do, finding me -- as you imagine -- without defense?"

Leela snorts, but does not reply.

"Of course you know our mental powers." Romana sounds more serious. "Having lived among us for so many years. But suppose you were unaware of this."

Leela turns her head with a frown, studying Romana intently. They have enacted many fictional scenarios. Though certainly always as much for educational ends as for sheer entertainment.

"So I have been banished, with all the forces of the palace in pursuit of me. And I find you." Leela nods, indicating Romana's prone form. "Like this."

Romana returns the nod.

With the barest whisper of sound, her knife leaves its sheath.

Romana's eyes widen a fraction as her bodyguard crosses the steps between them in the space of a heartbeat. The next finds Leela on the bed beside her, weapon at her throat.

"You will make an excellent hostage." Leela nods in evident satisfaction. "If anyone should try to stop me from leaving the Citadel, I will take your life."

"No one leaves the Citadel!" Romana's fear seems oddly misdirected. The muscles of her throat quiver against the metal. "Outside is nothing but a barren wasteland, ruled by savages!"

"Do you mock me?" Whatever its source, Leela relishes the fear in those pleading eyes. She has spent a lifetime learning how to tolerate all the ridiculous restrictions of her adopted society. But even Time Lords are not so full of their own intelligence as to be unaware of the true force that makes the universe run. Literal, naked force.

"You cannot run forever." Romana holds her chin high, seeming taller despite her stature; noble and defiant against the threat of the blade. "The Lord President has decreed you outcast. Do you even have a plan?"

"I will find out why the Doctor has done this," Leela snaps. "And if he is not suffering from the worm that eats one's brain, everything will make sense."

Romana's voice is gentle. "You're very fond of him, aren't you?"

Leela returns her stare without blinking. Romana swallows, and remains silent.

It's not her old knife. Every so often Leela is reminded of this, that the knife she first brought to Gallifrey had been lost long ago, on one of the numerous expeditions she had led to the farthest reaches of the planet. Crafted to her exact specification by the finest artisans of the generation, the blade in her hand is a weapon of exquisite beauty and perfect balance. She has not taken many lives with it. Sometimes she can almost hear its nano-sharpened edge, keening out for blood.

"You will help me to escape this place," Leela states. She leans in closer, her nose almost touching Romana's own. "You will help me help the Doctor. Or I swear by each and every one of my ancestors --"

Leela stops, and cocks her head. Slowly, she looks up and down Romana's body; her puzzled frown fading as she takes in the thin and trembling aristocratic frame, barely visible through multiple gauzy layers of night robes. Her gaze ascends back to her companion's face, wearing its apprehension as plain as tracks in the snow.

Leela nods. "You are enjoying this."

"What?" Romana blinks, and clears her throat. "What --"

"Being threatened." Leela feels her realization harden as she observes the older woman's heaving bosom, the tightening points of her nipples beneath the fabric. "It excites you." 

Romana swallows once more, fingers twitching at her waist. "What if it does?"

Leela pauses. Then smiles, and sheaths her blade.

"Then I think you are a foolish and stubborn woman." Leaning in close, Leela breathes deep of that delicate flowery scent. "And sometime soon, when all this political nonsense is behind us, you and I will have a very, very interesting conversation."

Romana shivers, resting her head upon Leela's shoulder. "You are too cruel."

"I did say soon, did I not?" And Leela dares a brief kiss upon the imperial cheek. "One would think a lady of your age had learned more patience."

"Hmph." Rather than pulling away, Romana snuggles deeper into her arms. "We've taught you too well."

Leela returns the embrace in full. "How so?"

"Trading insults like a civilized woman." Romana sighs, and holds her close. "I find I prefer the tongue of the barbarians."

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for this ending up more foreplay than knifeplay. But like Kima said on The Wire, "Sometimes things just gotta play hard."


End file.
